


A Week of Firsts

by DeniedLove



Series: Geralt and Jaskier’s Cute Adventures [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sweet, cuteness, fathers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22766275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeniedLove/pseuds/DeniedLove
Summary: Geralt, Jaskier, and Jakub make their way to the first town in their new journey. Showing some new firsts for both a little boy and his fathers
Relationships: Geralt - Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geralt and Jaskier’s Cute Adventures [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616710
Comments: 9
Kudos: 119





	1. First Town

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know how your feeling about this. I think this one will have chapters to it. I do not know how many at this time.
> 
> Thank you everyone who is reading and enjoying my work. 
> 
> Remember to be kind and love everyone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jakub’s first town outside of the small village he grew up in. Everything is new and full of wonder

It was the small families first town. It took a couple of weeks to finally move back to a more favorable road. Turns out traveling is slow work when you have an over excited and semi rowdy 4 year old on your hands. 

Jakub stop running.   
Jakub that does not belong in the fire! Daddy I have to pee!   
What is that?   
Papa, papa, papa, papa.... WHAT!!!! 

That was the one time Geralt made Jakub cry and boy did that make Jaskier livid. Not only did Geralt have to really make himself seem like he was the least threatening person on the continent (very hard to do) but he had to use terms of endearment he never thought would leave his mouth. Crouching down he tried with all of his might to calm the small boy wrapped in his daddy’s arms. Some ‘darlings’, ‘sweeties’, and ‘pumpkins’ latter he had apologized his way back into the boys good graces. Even let him rid his shoulders for a good few hours on the road. 

Latter that night he apologized to his bard in all the best ways he knew. 

Now they stood on a curved road overlooking a small town down in a valley bellow. Jaskier is counting their coin. “.... and we must get something to entertain Jakub,” pointing to the sleeping child in Geralts arm, “while on the road.” Jaskier frowns. “I’m worried Geralt. About his education and his growth. This... he...” the bard trails off but Geralt finishes his thought. “This is not a life for a small child.” Their eyes meet and the cornflower blues are looking worn and guilty. Geralt reaches up and brushes his fingers across the younger mans cheek. “It’s not your fault.” His voice is quite, soft. Jaskier can’t help but smile into the Witcher’s touch. 

The fact that this man trust him completely is still something Geralt is having problems accepting. He’s finally allowing himself moments like this to warm his old heart.

Geralt takes roaches reigns and starts to move toward the town. “Do we have enough?” 

“I’ll sing of course.” Jaskier’s confidence is radiating but this told him the answer was no. 

“I’ll look for a contract.” Geralt does not need to look over to his companion to know that for a moment his face has tightened into one of worry and stress. It is not a new face. Ever since the two have been honest about their feelings Jaskier has been pulling that face occasionally when a contract or a monster comes around. They have already exchanged words regarding Geralts job usually ending in a frustrated Witcher, and upset bard, and a night of making up, which neither of them could be fully mad about. 

Geralt wakes Jakub before they get too close to the town. Handing him off to his daddy, Geralt puts on what the little boy likes to call his ‘mean face’ and leads his family through the gate. 

The town however, is bustling with everyday activity. They receive a few looks from the locals. Some do double takes while others brush them off as they are just too busy to care. At least one person recognizes Geralt as a Witcher quickly and watches them from afar with a sneer. Geralt takes notice and remembers the mans face. He hopes there will be no issues in this town. 

They make their way to the local inn and bar. Geralt ties Roach off in the stables and grabs their packs as Jaskier holds the wide eyed toddler. Surprisingly quite with awe. 

“Remember what we talked about darling.” Jaskier whispers into the boys ear receiving a nod back. Geralt puts a large hand on the little ones back. “Repeat it.” He instructs, standing close and waits for the child to look him in the eyes. 

“I stay close. I do not wonder. I must have a hand on daddy or papa at all times.”

Satisfied, Geralt lightly pats the boys back with a reassuring, “good boy” to follow up. 

They wonder into the inn and request one room. The inn-keep gives them a weary look mostly directed at the Witcher. Jaskier plasters on his brightest and most welcoming smile and draws the mans attention away from the towering and glaring hunk. “We need a room with two beds good man.” Flashing his best teeth. The man nods and continues to give Geralt that familiar look the two men are more than used to. What little coin they have left is transferred for a room key and a few days stay. 

Once they are situated and their items safely tucked away with their room door locked behind them they headed back out into the town. They split off in the main square, Geralt finds a posting board and Jaskier is looking for small trinkets that can be portable, entertaining, and cheep. Also at least one chalk board with some chalk and letter writing assistance. Moments later they meet back up, Jaskier with Jakub in tow. The boy now has a little pack of his own and is smiling from ear to ear. Geralt has a connection and will need to drop by the local apothecary to see about some drowned brains needed. This town had three contracts in all and it would prove to be worth their visit. 

As Geralt and Jaskier make their plans for the day, Geralt would get information on the contracts, Jaskier would head to the bar, and Jakub.... this was the hard part. He was just too young. Did he go with Geralt? Would he get lost at the bar? The two men pondered their options. They couldn’t leave him at the inn! 

It was Geralt who noticed first. He reached down not even thinking, second nature, to ruffle the little boys hair, the little boy who was not in arm reach.... the little boy who was not there!

Immediately Geralt snapped his attention around the square. The boy was not near them and he could not see him. Meeting Jaskier’s puzzled look which turned quickly into one of panic. A large “O” graced the bards mouth as his eyes widen in horror. “Jakub! Jakub!” Jaskier starts to turn around on the spot his voice wavering. “JAKUB!” Geralt grasps his loves shoulders and spins him around. Pulling the smaller man into him he speaks softly into his ear, “Calm down Jas, we’ll find him. Give me a moment to smell.” Geralt wipes a tear from his bards face and turns to the crowd, scenting the air, searching for the unique smell that is his little boy. ‘His’, if Geralt kept the mentality of ‘his’ he may be able to let his Witcher senses take over which they do. In a few breaths he smells the baby’s breath and sandalwood. A mixture of Jaskier’s scented oils he used to clean the boy in the streams. Like a hunting dog the Witcher catches the scent and follows the invisible trail through the town square. Around a few corners and into a small ally where many children gather around laughing and giggling. Jakub sitting in the middle, peeling with laughter as the puppets argue back and forth in a little make shift stage. 

Geralt could hear Jaskier’s heart steady itself his own however continued to beat a tad bit too fast. His panic melding into anger. The little shit! He growled out the boys name, loud enough to thunder over the commotion in front of him and to pause the play. Jaskier put a hand on his mans arm and tried to calm him down. He really did try. “Geralt, he’s just a kid.” 

Geralt’s chest tumbled in response. Jaskier swallowed what he could of his dry throat while Jakub sank down from the golden glare directed at him. 

Jakub’s daddy quickly turned to him and pushed past the group of cowering children. The puppeteer had popped his head out of the stage to see what was happening and leveled his gaze with Jaskier’s before seeing the glaring golden eyes of the Witcher and paled. Jaskier rushed the boy past Geralt and away from anyone who noticed. “Let’s go!” He hissed at the larger man. Good gods above he prayed they got out of this issue before someone noticed an angry Witcher scaring little children. ‘Please let this not become an issue. Please.’ Jaskier prayed. 

The bard found their own little unoccupied ally way farther away from the bustling of the town. Hugging the little boy close, checking he was safe, and checking his person for all of his new belongings. Everything was in order except for the large man blocking the ally with his piercing gold eyes that refuse to leave from the back of the little boys head. 

Geralt took some deep breaths to calm himself. Finally he comes forward and crouches down to the little boy. 

“What was the first thing we talked about when we got to the city?” His words were rumbling deep from his chest no matter how hard he tried to calm his anger. 

Jakub turns his head into his daddy’s neck and whimpers just a little bit. Jaskier rubs his back. “I know papa has his real mean face on but you scared us darling. Now, answer the question.” Geralt hears a muffled “I stay close.” The boys voice catches a little bit as his tears start to trickle down his face, “I do not wonder.” He hiccups a little bit and snuffles, “I must have a hand on daddy......” a long pause and Jakub looks up at his daddy “or papa” turning his eyes to the angry ones not that far away, “at all times.” Geralt nods his head. 

“I’m angry do you know why little one?” He prompts the boy who in turn shakes his head. Not because he doesn’t know but he’s too upset to say anything. His fathers have figured this out by now. It is a side effect of the terror that his previous grandfather had beaten into the boy. “It’s because you didn’t listen and you scared your daddy.” Softer Geralt adds, “You scared me pumpkin.” He’s rubbing the boys back now and has pulled the tinny one into a hug. Thought Geralt might raise his voice and growls he has sworn to never lay a hand on the boy in any true manor of pain. At least, not until he was old enough to train with a dagger or sword. Pain came second hand with that kind of training. 

“Sweetheart, you need to listen. If you wanted to watch the show you should have said something first.” Jaskier says as he combs the boys hair with his fingers. “Em sorry” Jakub’s tears are drying into Geralt’s leather armor. “Em sorry papa... Em sorry daddy.” Geralt plants a kiss on the boys head. 

With a sigh he lifts the boy up in his arms. It was going to be a long day. “You sing, I’ll start questioning, and this one will be helping.... I guess.” Geralt caresses Jaskier’s cheek and gives him a quick kiss before heading to the main road and his contacts. 

This warmed Jaskier heart more than he ever thought possible. He loves Geralt but he loves Geralt more with Jakub in his arms. The little boy was now snuggled into the Witcher’s collar bone and neck snuffling the last of his tears. A curtain of white hair hiding him from the world. When the boy was really upset this was one of his favorite places to go. Behind his papas hair, safe. 

Geralt’a anger has subsided as its hard to stay angry with his little boy. Turning to Jaskier they finally put together a plan. He would do what he could with their tiny charge in tow and Jaskier would try to strum up some positive attention for them, assuming they had some negative imagery he would need to combat. 

With a final kiss to the forehead Jaskier retrieves his lute from the inn and proceeds to feel out the atmosphere of the attached bar. After a chat with the bartender he was strumming his instrument and warming up his voice. Geralt could hear that much as he had a steel hold on the little boy in his arms. He’d be dammed if something else was going to happen to the precious child again today. Jakub’s eyes were constantly looking about them wide in amazement and wonder. Arms wrapped around his papas neck he took in the sites of a world he had never been in before. 

Their first stop was the apothecary. The owners was a darling woman in late years of her life. Crows feet graced her ever green eyes and a halo of gray hair pilled upon her head. At first the old medicine woman was appalled at the child in his arms. How dare a horrible Witcher use such an innocent as bait for drowners. She found her assumption to be far from the truth when the little boy pipes up, “Papa, what is bait?” It was comical, the Witcher’s ‘hummm’ that was easily interpreted as one of annoyance but also clearly embracement. When ‘papa’ did not answer fast enough he was rewarded with a poke to a fine chiseled jaw. “Papa.....” poke, “what does bait mean?” She watched, no longer able to hide her amusement, a small airy laugh passes her lips, as a large hand catches a tiny one preventing it from poking again. 

“Do you remember fishing a few weeks back?” A confirmed tinny nod.   
“Remember digging for worms to put on the hook?” A very excited ‘yep’.   
“That worm was bait. A week creature used to lure in a stronger one.”

The boy turns his beautiful blues onto the woman, “I’m not a bait. I’m Jakub.” She could not help but react to the blinding smile from the little boy. Even the never moving mountain of a man huffed a ‘heh’ of amusement. 

Geralt is able to get information on where the closest pool of drowners are. Not only is the woman willing to pay for brains but the local guards have coin for every head. Also any brains she can’t use Geralt can. After an onslaught of “Papa, what’s that? as Jakub is pointing to random bottles of floating items they finally leave the shop. The owner is full of her own smiles. Who knew a visit from a Witcher could be so pleasant. She did worry about the tiny boy. Where would the mutant hide him during a battle?

Next was the magistrates home. This would be a bit more tricky. Geralt kneels down next Jakub and puts his very tiny head in his large hands so he can have the boys attention. “I need you to stay quite at our next appointment. Not a word no matter what anyone says. Do you understand?” The little boy shakes his head yes between his palms. “Not a word.” Geralt repeats before picking him back up again. Making sure he could always reach for his sword if need be. 

The magistrate was a plump man whom did not work a day in his life. He walked around with a false air of importance and Geralt knew this contact would be difficult. The lazy man graced the Witcher with a sweep of his hand in false welcoming motion. How happy he was that the wide known White Wolf was in his city! He falters when he sees the boy in the strong arms of this Witcher. Raises an eye brow and offers a sad price to kill a nest of harpies. Geralt huffed in annoyance and responds with a humorless smile. “My price for that many harpies is clearly far more than you can afford.” Before he turns heal and starts to walk out. 

“How dare you turn you back on me you mutant mutt!” All of the magistrates false welcome gone. He’s in a huff. His chest is puffed out and he points a ringed finger at Geralt. “How dare you lowly waste of air tell me no!” 

Jakub has been quite up to this moment. Taking in the plush beauty of the Magistrates home. When the tone of the situation changed however he starts to cower into his Papas hair. 

“You Witcher’s are nothing but scum and bastards. With out a doubt abandoned by your mothers the moment you slipped from the wombs.” 

Jakub might not have fully understood what the mean man was saying but he did know insults. His grandpa has used them against him far too many times. With a whip of his head he pulled himself out of the comfort of white hair to retaliate however a small shake and a light pinch on his leg from his Papa reminded him of his previous promise. Instead, the little boy leveled is quite adorable glare on the mean man who was rambling at his Papa’s back as they walked out. 

Tiny hands twisted in Geralt’s hair. They left the posh home and out some distance between them and the raging Magistrate.

In a secluded side street Geralt turned his head to the little boy. “You did a good job Pumpkin.” Instead of a smile he was greeted with a frown and a very complexed look on a tiny face. “He was a mean man! He said mean things!” 

“I know, love.” Geralt kisses his head quickly, “Some people are just like that.”

“Papa.” 

“Humm.”

“What’s a Witcher?”

This question took the large man by surprise. It never occurred to him that the boy had never heard the stories. The village he came from had met him and Jaskier before. They were nice people but even small villages with nice people could still have horrific views on outsiders. Did they not teach the propaganda of Witcher’s? It seemed not. Geralt started for the bar, contemplating, when a finger poked into his jaw. “Papa.” 

“Stop that.” Geralt growls. 

“What’s a Witcher?” The questions is repeated. 

After a pause and a heavy sigh Jakub is shifted so he sits fully on the White Wolfs chest. Cornflower blue meeting a golden honey. “I am a Witcher.” There is a pause as Jakub is playing with his hair. “Magic has mutated me and made me a monster hunter.”

“Why was that man being mean to you?”

Geralt squeezes the boy close to him in almost a hug. “Because I am not human. Humans fear others who are not human.”

Jakub is twisting a piece of his hair in his hands a bit roughly and looking a little shy. Geralt is just about to transfer the boy back to his usual sitting place in one very nice muscled arm when he hears a shy and quite, “Papa your not a monster. I love you so you can’t be a monster.” 

Gerat’s heart ached at this. Oh how little did his precious boy know. The absolute trust and innocence in his large arms, resting against his leather. Up until now, Geralt admits to himself, he was protecting this boy because of Jaskier. It took him a long time to admit feelings for the younger man but now, now his heat is swelling. Gods above he was fucked. He was absolutely fucked. He’s broken all of the Whitcher rules. Not only has he fallen madly for a weak human but he’s fallen madly for that week humans child. He hugged the boy close and places a large kiss on the boys head. “I love you too Pumpkin.”

You see the other thing that the large Witcher should have noticed. The other thing that he really should have paid attention to. Across from his and Jakub’s safeish ally was the puppeteer holding his hands to his heat and a large smile gracing his face. The muses singing in his head. New material basically writing itself. A Witcher with feelings. We’re all of the stories wrong? He rushed off to his workshop with a Witcher and his charge never the wiser. 

Finally, Geralt and Jakub arrive at the bar to hear the beautiful strumming of Jaskier’s lute. In the middle of one of his better songs, Geralt kind of likes this one about him and the Hag. Jaskier greats his man and son a beaming smile and dances around the patrons entertaining Jakub more than the locals. The little boy clapping on the beat. Geralt notices and grumbles in his head about more than one noise maker following him. He orders a drink, a plate, and a juice all with a little boy bouncing and cheering on his arm. Silently thanking whatever gods that he had the strength of a mountain troll keeping the energetic boy from falling to the ground. 

The bar was full and over the span of the next hour or so no one missed the sight of a big bad large Witcher, his face trained to a look of uncaring, with a little boy bouncing on his lap, slowly being trained to use a three prong fork and drinking apple juice. It was fucking adorable. The bar maids were all giggles, the other men reminded of their own little ones when they were younger or currently young, and the women all forgetting for a moment that Witcher’s were sterile. Jaskeir bouncing and turning around in the bar with the largest smile Geralt has ever seen on his face. Somehow Geralt did not notice everyone’s hearts warming that day to good mead, great music, and amazing show of love from what they thought was a monster. 

Meanwhile, off in his own little work space, a puppeteer is carving a white haired marionette with a smaller little chestnut haired boy attached to one arm. Not too far from that work shop was an angry man with a grimy face chatting away to an even more upset magistrate about an unwanted Witcher in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I’m hoping this will have a few chapters to it. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave a message.
> 
> Don’t forget to love each other.  
> Creeping at a crime and neither is Geraskier. (Name that fandom!)


	2. First Baddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a week of first we find our little Witcher family on their second day in a new town. 
> 
> Jakub is upset he does not get to help papa fight some drowners, Jaskier learns a lesson in baby sitting, and Geralt is Geralt.

Jaskier and Geralt decided to take turns watching over Jakub. Their second day in town, Geralt grabbed a few large sacks and heads for the local drowner infestation. Jaskier is entertaining Jakub in the town square. Trying to keep the little boys mind off of his worries and tantrum from the morning. The little boy did not take too well to the idea of his Papa going off on an adventure without him. He enjoyed their alone time yesterday and it was sweet really but the screaming and wailing that he had put them through this morning was a bit much for the Witcher. Geralt nopes out of their room that morning as soon as Jakub’s voice hit a new octave which only made the situation worse and Jaskeir more flustered. 

Geralt turned the corner and started to head down to the main floor when he runs into the inn keepers wife. She had breakfast and juice ready to deliver but did not expect the sounds of defiance and the fleeing Witcher. With a rough “excuse me” he tried to move past the woman but she is effectively taking up the small space of the entire hallway. In an attempt to not offend or create and issue he pulls back but not before she pushes the plate into his chest. He has no choice but to take it. He’s angry and his eyes are getting thinner by the minute but she doesn’t smell of fear. This is new to him. Sure Jaskeir doesn’t fear him, even the few times he’s made Jakub upset he had t been afraid but this woman instead shoves the juice into his other hand. 

“You will take that to the bard and the child and you will help him. Parenting alone is horrible, doing it on the road worse, but the most unforgivable is when your only ally abandons you.” 

She turns on her heal and flows down the stairs with the grace only a mother of five could have. The large man looks to the ceiling for a moment before growling to himself and turning back to his room, just in time to hear Jakub impressively discover new notes. 

Geralt pushes through the door with an aggression the rooms inhabitants were not expecting. The door slammed against the wall stoping the tiny terror in the middle of a howl. Geralt leaves the breakfast at the rooms personal table and closes the door before turning to the stunned bard and boy. 

“Jakub! Stop!” he growls earning a shocked and then a glare from Jaskier. He give the bard a ‘trust me look’ before continuing. He makes sure there is a reasonable measure of growling in his voice as he continues. “So you don’t get to go and kill some monsters. What kind of fighter cries because they don’t get to kill monsters?” Jakub’s large tears are rolling down his red cheeks. He lowers himself to look eye level with the boy. “Is that it? You want to fight the monsters too?” The shocked boy nods his head yes just the slightest. Geralt grabs his little bicep gives the boy a deep frown, “With what muscle? You going to lift one of those large swords with that scrawny arm?” The boys lip quivers as he points to the swords on his back. “Geralt!” Jaskier hisses at him but is ignored. He lets the roughness leave his voice as he pats the boys head. “Listen, when you get old enough to handle a blade I will train you but right now your too small and young to fight monsters with me.” Jakub’s eyes start to fill again and the tears are flowing over. Geralt’s palm is gentle and heavy. It covers the boys mop of hair and makes sure the boys eyes are turned up looking at him. “You will stop wining and crying. You will stop this behavior now. Some day you’ll get to fight but it’s not today and no matter how much you scream it’s not going to happen.” The boy snuffles as Geralt helps wipe his face free of snot and tears. “Now your going to eat your breakfast and do your lessons like a big boy.” His tone left no room for argument. He lifted the boy and placed him on a chair at the table. “Eat, practice, and stop being stubborn this morning.” 

Jaskier pulls him out of the room into the hall before he can reach for his traveling gear. “What the fuck was that?” The younger man hissed at him. Geralt shrugged, “He needs to learn he can’t throw a tantrum.”

“No I meant promising him you’ll train him! Like hell!” Jaskier pushes his finger into the Witcher’s very toned chest puffing his own up, his cheeks reddening in his anger. “Like hell your going to let our little boy do a job so dangerous...” Geralt silences his bard quickly with a tender kiss. He uses the bards shock to deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue past his lovers parted lips to caress the quick moving musical muscle of his precious song bird, swallowing potentially loud moans. Finally pulling away, before anyone else decides to come or go from their own personal rooms, Geralt nipped his bards lips one more time and strategically moved him away from the door to slip back into their rented space. He grabs his potions, weapons, and gear before kneeling down to the boys level. A flushed Jaskier is not far behind him. “This conversation is not done Geralt! Are you even listening to me!”

Grabbing the boys attention one last time, “No more wining about events you don’t get a choice over. Do you hear me? Jakub.” His voice is stern. Jakub nods his head as he pouts out his lower lip. He’s trying to practice his “A” on the chalk board his daddy purchased him yesterday. “Jakub.” Geralt’s voice is demanding. “No more wining,” Jakub repeats. Geralt awards him with a kiss on the cheek and a “thats a good boy” before turning to try and plant one more kiss on his bards lips. Jaskeir still busy trying to chew him out turns just in time so the Witcher gets the corner of his mouth. Geralt does not respond to the huffing bard but instead uses his stare down trick until Jaskier shuts up and gives him a real kiss. He exits the room with a promise to return tonight and to remind his love not to worry for him. 

———

Geralt was gone and now Jaskier is lounging in the square strumming his lute and correcting Jakub’s letters. Occasionally pointing to a shop and explaining the purpose of said peddler of goods. He was determined to use every opportunity that presented itself to teach the little boy. They had already been doing this on the road, pointing out birds, plants, nuts, trees, anything that the boy saw his parents tried to give a name to it. A lesson connected to it. How to use it or to stay away from it. 

He was trying not to stew about this morning’s incident however that proved to be harder than he imagined. He was having a bad day himself. Every time he tried to get a new tune in his head all he could think of was a little Jakub trying to handle a dagger two times longer than his arm. So yes a small sword and yes he was blowing it out of proportion but Damit how dare Geralt promise their little boy weapons training! He was only four!!! A string on his lute snaps, cutting into the pad of his finger. 

Gritting his teeth trying to not let the string of curses flow in front of his little sweetie. He lets his shoulders slump in defeat. “Daddy?” Jakub is looking at him with great amount of concern. “Daddy are you going to die?” Tears start to brim in his eye. “No baby,” Jaskier pulls a cleaning rag from his lute case and wraps his finger up. “I do need to see the apothecary though.” He sighs, he’ll also need some strings. 

An hour later Jaskier is bandaged up and returning his lutes new strings outside the apothecary. The owner doting over Jakub as if he was her own grandson. She was a wonderful woman and was ever patient to all of the little boys questions. Potions and herbs was something both Jaskeir and Geralt agreed on regarding their sons itinerary. Sure he was a little young right now but becoming aware of the craft and start the seeds of learning never could start too young. 

Once Jaskeir felt comfortable with the tune of his instrument and the light bandage on his finger he started up a simple song. Sure enough he would be good to play in the bar this afternoon. He properly thanks the shop keeper and wraps his son up in his arms. All things considered this was a good day. He did not expect Jakub to be the kind off trouble he has been but the more he thinks on it the more it makes sense. The poor boy is over stimulated by the new town. Everything he’s experiencing is brand new. He went from an abusive grandfather, however surrounded by kind people, to traveling with two new and strange men into a world full of wonder. Jaskier kisses and hugged his boy close. As shadows in ally ways followed them every where he went. 

———

Back at the bar Jaskier is doing his best to bother one of the bar maids to watch after Jakub before he needs to sing. 

“I’ll pay you a tip, I swear.” She huffs at him. 

“Look bard I have a whole bar to look after. I can’t be responsible for your kid.”

“I’ll put him in that small corner over there and just make sure he doesn’t move. Please.” He pleads and holds out some coin in payment. She reluctantly takes the coin as Jaskier plops his wide eye boy onto a small bench and table in the far corner of the bar. His chalk and board for his attention and some trinkets. “Jakub you are to stay here.” He points to the seat the boy is inhabiting. “You will not move for anything do you hear me?”

The boy nodded his head yes while saying, “But why?”

“I’m going to play my lute for all of these nice people so you need to sit here and wait. Ok baby?” He gives his child a huge smile and says, “You get to see what your daddy is made of!” With a flourish of his hand he pulls his instrument to him. One last wink at the boy a Jaskier turns to the rest of the bar starting his set with some well strummed notes. He does a good job. One of his best shows yet! At some point her has the whole bar singing in with The Fishmongers Daughter. At first he would cast his eyes over for Jakub and make sure he was still there. Thankfully the boy had not moved. Sometimes he clapped along and giggled at his daddy sometimes he played with one of his cheap toys. Finally Jaskier stoped worrying and got a bit caught up in the show. So much so he didn’t notice the few hours tick by. 

——

The sun was just setting while Geralt walks back into town. First he drops by the guard post dedicated to payment of contacts. The group on watch were just as unwelcoming as he expected, or well, most of them were. As the young soldiers offered him a third of the price he should receive, hoping to pocket the rest, his hire officer showed up hearing Geralt’s protests and threats. 

Dunon was a good man and a man of his word. So when the lower ranking guard insisted on paying the good Witcher less he could not help but walk up and cuff the younger many hard in the back of the head. “Pay The White Wolf in full.” He received a stifle glare in return which he silently promised to reward with punishment latter. Handing the sack of coin to the Witcher he says, “Young whelp couldn’t have killed that many I don’t know why he thinks he deserves to pocket someone of your well deserved earnings.”

Geralt did not miss the look the higher officer gave the guard. A look that promised not only a good verbal beating but most likely grunt work in the future. What the Witcher did not know was Dunon had already seen him yesterday, at a bad, with a baby boy bouncing on his lap. The man needed a good drink after a long day of work and was one of the many who got to see this true nature of a Witcher. He in turn kissed and hugged his 3 and 7 year old when he returned home that afternoon. Greeting his beautiful wife who was carrying their third bouncing joy. 

“Thank you.” Geralt is rewarded with a head nod and a smile. 

“Have a good evening Witcher.” Dunon waves him away and closes the door behind his retreating back. 

Geralt hefts up his second sack, full of drowner brains, and heads deeper into the town. He passes the bar his bard is playing in, should be playing in, it’s quite. A heavy hum is coming from the building of excitement but no music. Just as Geralt is about to brush it off the door to the bar is flung open and Jaskier is tumbling out reeking is stress, worry, and fear. 

“JAKUB!!!”

——

After Jaskier finished his last song he promised everyone to play a few more when his Witcher came back. They all wanted the Wolf present for “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher”. All smiles and a bit tired from his performance he turns to the corner to give a good wink to his boy. The corner is empty. Panicked he turns to the bar maid who’s eyes widen at the empty corner. He sees her mouth form a ‘fuck’ before turning back to the bard. 

“I told you I was busy and could not watch a kid!” She yells at him. 

Jaskier scans the bar. Looking for the mop of brown hair. For his little boy just playing a trick. “Has anyone seen my kid?” He asks the room but is greeted with a few shrugs and mostly no one giving a fuck. Jaskeir rushes over to the table. All of Jakub’s things are still there. Pure panic taking over he pushes his way through the bar and out into the cold streets, screaming the boys name. 

Geralt rushes up to him, bloody bag in hand, just coming from his Drowner fight a little wet from the water himself. Jaskier throws his hands up, grasping his lovers armor. “He’s gone! Our little boy is gone!”

The bar maid is moving through the open door with a small cast of locals behind her. One man, the puppeteer, approaches them. “We’ll find yourself boy. Rest assured we’ll find your little boy.” Before the two men could blink a small search and rescue party is forming at the entrance to the bar. Geralt drops his sack of brains one one young man close by. “Take this to the apothecary. Tell her we have an emergency and I’ll drop by for payment.” The young man nodded and rushed down the streets in the correct direction. 

Geralt hold Jaskier by the shoulders and gives him a small shake. “Where was the last place you saw him?” The blue eyes dart around him. Seeing the town square, seeing the people, looking for a sign of his child, and some how seeing nothing and everything at the same time. One of Geralt’s large and strong hands takes hold of his face forcing him to look up into yellow eyes. “Jaskier, when did you see him last?”

The answer comes out as a whisper. “I was playing my gig.” Geralt watches as a wave of guilt flows over his lovers face. “Oh fuck Geralt.” The bard chokes on his name. “It’s my fault. I was playing and I was watching him but then... I got wrapped up into my song.... I stoped watching him.” Jaskier sobs a dry heat clenching sound. Geralt pulls him into his chest and wraps his strong arm around the bard who continues to mutter into the crook of his neck. 

For a moment he forgets they are encircled by towns folk, that is until the bar maid steps forward. “Master Bard, Witcher, forgive me, it was my fault.” Geralt startles at this and cannot hide his look of confusion. “How so?” He responds as he’s rubbing Jaskier’s back. 

She takes a shaky breath, “Your bard here paid me to keep an eye on the boy and thought the bar was busy I just stoped dropping in by the little one. He seemed fine and I had patrons to assist. I’m so sorry.” A tear falls down her cheek. 

Before Geralt can respond another steps forward. “No love it’s not your fault. It is mine. I’m the one who suggested the arousing song which pulled everyone’s direction.” There is more murmuring and more “no it’s not yours it is mine.” As wonderful and confusing this show of solidarity people have for The situation Geralt does not have the time for. With a frustrated growl he damns if anyone in the crowd has seen something if anything useful. 

A young maid pipes up. She loves the bards songs but when she heard there was a small version of him in the shape of an adorable child, “bouncing on the knee of a Witcher none the less!” She babbles just a minute longer about the sight. The crowd kind of silents in a suspicious way. Some of the larger men blushing and the women having a look of solidarity amongst themselves. Jaskier has looked up from his towering mans shoulder. “Wait hold on.” He says grabbing everyone’s attention. “You mean to tell me your not fans of my singing but of my family?”

The maid shushes him. “Oh no Master Jaskier we love your songs!” He voice hitched up an octave of excitement at the word love. She becomes a bit nervous and embarrassed as she fidgets with a loose string in her sleeve. “We also just love the idea of a Witcher, someone who’s not supposed to care of love or be more than a monster. The idea is him.... caring for a child and having a wife like figure.” She whispers the last part. It seems like  
The group around them were holding onto a Secret they never intended to let out. 

“What does that have to do with Jakub?” Geralt is finally losing his patience. It shows and the girl ‘eeps’. It’s not a sound the two men are used to. Was she excited or scared?

“Oh right! I think i saw a man talking to your boy before the final song.” 

Geralt demands the woman described the man and his heart sinks when she tells in great detail the man from their first day. The one that Geralt marked to keep an eye out for. The one that glared at them as they entered the town. He can hardly keep his anger at bay as the second local confirms, “Good fuck! That’s Kagus. He used to be a soldier but was injured a few years back. He’s the one that suggested to me to yell out the song I wanted to hear. He’s a surly fuck but I never pegged him to be a child napper.”

The puppeteer speaks up, “He was bitching about you lot yesterday. I heard him. Called your little boy a tiny devil. Saying horrible things and curses toward you Master Witcher and your bard.”

By now Geralt has let go of Jaskier and is shaking in his anger. “Take me to this man!”

——

Dunon is in the middle of tearing his solders a new ass hole for their shorty attitudes when he receives a sealed order from his hire ranking officer, Vaghn. The look in the mans eyes is one of regret as he watched his friend read the order. Dunon is filled with conflict emotions. ”Its time.” Vaghn nods his agreement and exits the tower with determination in his eyes. 

Once his soldiers are assembled, Dunon directs them to the town square where a group of people have gathered around the bard and Witcher. He hears the anger and seething of the mutants voice. May the gods have mercy on his soul if The White Wolf decides to turn his sword onto him and his men. 

He hears the bard exclaim, “Someone called the guards! Sir we..” the Witcher cuts the young man off. 

He directs his men to hold back as he walks up to the Witcher. 

He tries to keep his face trained into a look of neutrality but he knows his eyes give him away. Regret. 

He hands the large man another sealed letter and looks him right in the golden eyes when he says, “I’m sorry. This will be made right.” For he truly means it. No one should be forced to go through what these men are being forced to go through. His heart clenches as he thinks of his little sweethearts and his loving wife, growing their third. 

He prays Vaghn will be swift as he watcher the Witcher unfold the summons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if this chapter doesn’t read so well. I kept on working it over again and again. I feel ok about this one.
> 
> Forgive me for putting our little boy in danger. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.  
> Please remember to love one another and to be kind.


	3. First Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has stole Jakub and now his daddy and papa must save the day.

Tarker was an offended old cuss. The one wife he did have died in child birth years ago. He was injured in a small skirmish with some bandits while on patrol. He hated everything and everyone what was not him or like him. His lists of things he despised was very long. Including; non humans, women with ideas, children, people who think they are better than him, that damn flaunting bard and his Witcher, all mutants, and bumble bees. 

He was in the middle of a particular self deprecating bitching at the local hole in the wall bar when a dark clothed figure approached him with an offer he could not refuse. This figure saw the abomination and the fluttering bard for who and what they were, abominations. This figures Master was not pleased with the two new comers and their tiny snot of a child. Tarker has one job. Find a way to grab the child and deliver it to the Master. Even with out the extra coin at his belt he was planing on this already. The moment his eyes met the poison glow of yellow he was planing. It was time someone did something in this town about the monsters. 

He waits. He watches. He sees the pair kiss in public which makes him almost throw up his own bile. He sees the mutant leave town. He waits and sees the bard starts playing. He asks about the bar. Pretends to be interested in the bards best songs. Even as he asks he sounds angry and mocking like. No one sees this as unusually and it works in his favor. An older man is a bit excited to hear the bards more well known songs and suggests the one song Tarker hates the most. As if a Witcher, a Butcher, a empty mutant could be a friend to humanity. It does not matter for his plan works. He had purchased some sweets and he puts the kindest smile on his face. He gets the attention of the little boy. Pretending to draw on his chalk board as if he could be intelligent. Gives the boy a wink and a smile. He has taffy. It was expensive but worth it for the light in the boys eyes. The snot actually takes the bait. The snot actually follows him outside. He has the snot gagged and bound before anyone notices and tossed over his shoulder. In a matter of minuets Tarker is heading to his destination to drop off his package. 

———

The young man that Geralt handed the bag of drowner brains to rushes through the ally’s, determined to deposit his package and message before returning to his homestead. He has a good idea of what is happening, if he can, just, maybe he can convince the Magistrate to release the boy. Maybe. 

He knocks on the apothecaries door hard. Grandmother, as she is most commonly known to the locals, was clearly almost ready to turn in for the night. She’s surprised to see the young man at her doorstep. 

“Landon, my boy what are you doing here?” She sweeps him into her establishment. He’s a medium hight young man in his late teens. His light hair and green eyes reflect his dearly departed mothers looks. Ones the older woman is very familiar with. Not only is Grandmother the local healthier and apothecary but she also helped to bring many of the youth into this world through the door way of their mothers wombs. Young Landon is no exception. 

“I’ve brought the Witcher’s delivery of monster parts for you. Something came up in the town square. It’s sad really, his son has gone missing.”

The medicine lady’s face pales. “No! Not my pore little butterfly Jakub!”

“Is that the child’s name?” Landon doesn’t want to think about it. He’s not ready for this kind of issue happening in his nice quite town. Grandmother grasps his arm, “What is it my boy? What are you not saying?”

Landon casts his eyes down in shame. He knew, he’s almost positive he knows where the boy is. “If think the fat oaf took him.”

“Silence your tung.” She hisses back, “Why would that pompous idiot steal away a Witcher’s child?”

“The White Wolf, he told him ‘no’.”

With a swiftness the elder woman dons her cloak and whips the young man out her door. She locks it behind her and they are rushing through the streets with more energy Landon ever thought the woman had left in her. His heat is sinking. The little boy truly was in trouble. 

———

Geralt reads the Magistrates summons. Looks up into the regretful eyes of the Officer standing in front of him. 

“What is the meaning of this!” One of the patrons of the bar cries out. This starts a commotion around the Witcher and the Bard. A buzz that starts to attract the rest of the soldiers. Dunon holds his hand out and shakes his head to stopping his regime in their tracks. He tries to keep his voice quite and steady. He tries to make sure the very dangerous figure standing only feet away can hear his emotions, if slightly. “He demands you take on the Harpies just outside the village. He demands we escort you to their nests. If we do not walk out of here your boys life will be in danger.” Dunon steps closer to the trembling mass of death and whispers even quieter. “I have dispatched aid but we need to leave now.”

Geralt is shaking. The letter crumpled in his fist. Jaskeir has a hold of his bicep, holding on for his and the bards life. His Witcher is still, silent, unmoving. The stone face is colder, more menacing. Jaskier saw a promise of death in those golden eyes and for a split second he could really see how people could be afraid of his love. For a second a coldness gripped his heart and he thought, ‘They damn well better be afraid.’ The officer is close now. “Quick Witcher we must be moving if your boy is to stay safe.” His voice cracks when he says ‘boy’. The guard is not their enemies, not yet. 

Geralt grunts, “I need to retrieve some potions from our rented room. I have used what I had on me for the drowners.” Dunon nods his head in approval. He orders his men to escort the Witcher. The Bard is fidgeting and panicking at his lovers side all while the patrons of the bar continue to rille themselves up. Dunon instructs his most understanding and well spoken guard to speak to them. Assure them that Dunon will do what he can. There is no point in hiding behind false pretenses anymore. No one is happy about the kidnapping of an innocent child, let alone a Witcher’s child. 

The bar group is quieted down for now and Dunon waits for the Witcher just outside their room. 

———

Jaskier was flitting behind Geralt as he packed up a few spare potions. “Fuck the harpies, Geralt! They have our little boy! How can you just leave!” 

Geralt turns quickly on his heal and grapples the bard between his hands. “I’m not just leaving!” The response is most a low growl and it is taking his everything to keep his mind. He pulls the shaking man into his arms, patting the chestnut hair as his bard falls apart against his shoulder. “Listen to me Jas.” Geralt tries to calm the other man down. Jaksier tries, he really does. He tries to control his sobs into hiccups and hiccups into shallow breaths. Tries to keep his breath even but this is all very hard to do while grasping Geralt tightly. “Listen to me. Dunon is that leading officers name. He’s against this just as much as we are. We’re going to make a show of leaving. I want you to trust me. I’ll get out little boy back.” He pulls the bard away from him and wipes some tears as they fall. “Darling, trust me. Please.” Jaskier nods , not quite registering what is happening, but Damit he was done being the damsel in distress. Jaskier plants a long wet kiss onto Geralt’s lips before pulling away. “Let’s get our boy back.” Jaskier is very very angry. 

———

Geralt walks out of the town with Dunon and his guards in the direction of the Harpies nest. It takes all of his patience and training to not turn after the Magistrates home, to not cut down the Officer and his men. Keeping one foot in front of the other. His hands clench and in clench. His mind still focusing on his loves tear streaked face. An echo of Jaskier’s words, oh how they promised vengeance, “Let’s get our boy back.” 

‘Let’s indeed,’ his furious mind thinks. 

Dunon brings his group to a stop once they have put safe distance between themselves and the town. 

“Listen here boys,” he addresses his men, “Our towns state is not great. I will proudly say right now I do not support his law or right to his ruling.”

“It’s not that bad!” Says the man to Geralt’s left. He recognizes the boy as the guard who refused to pay him in full for the drowner heads. When Dunon settles his glare at the boy he seems to back up a steep. Geralt noticed this boy looking a bit rough around the edges from a recent beating. 

Dunon turns to the young man to Geralt’s right, “Jones, what happens to your grandparents?” 

The boy is a bit afraid to speak up, Geralt understands this, he is a soldier and they are talking treason right this moment. One the boy starts to talk however, he is free with his words and anguish. 

“The Magistrate took what little crops they had and then proceeded to burn what was left under fake pretense of monstrous moles. They couldn’t afford the higher tax rates. That’s all the problem was. There was a drought and the crops were not the best that year. The taxes were raised. My grandfather suffered from stress after that. I did what I could. Gave them what I could of my wages but it wasn’t enough. Before we knew he had been starving himself to feed grandmama. He passed away a few months ago.” There were tears of anger in the corners of the boys eyes. 

Dunon nods. “It’s not just the villagers or the guards the nobles are suffering too. Huh boy?” His eyes lands on the first guard. “What happened to your sister boy?” The boy huffs. “Nothing that isn’t expected of a lady.” He insists. “She’s happy with two children.” Dunon shakes his head in disagreement. “She was married off for the Magistrates gain like cattle and she attempted suicide at least two times that we are aware of!” He points a finger of his well earned glove into the boys face. “You can not tell me or pretend that was acceptable. Your best friend framed and killed so that she could be married off.” The young man is shaking in his own anger and self deprecation. Tears are streaming down his face. Remembering how happy his friend and sister were before some passing Lord saw here and wanted her. 

Dunon backs away and sweeps a hand at Geralt. “And now that fat swine has stolen an innocent boy all because a Witcher has told him ‘no’!” The mood of the guards is changing quickly. Some behind him are clearly in agreement. They have had enough. 

“My mother died of unnecessary disease because he refused to share good food to the public. Food that ended up rotting away in his storage.” Another guard pipes up from behind. 

Dunon silents the group in one motion. “So boys here’s the plan.”

Geralt’s energy thrummed in anticipation and excitement. They were not going to a Harpy lair tonight. Oh no. After a few institutions and some more agreement the group split off into the woods. Taking their intended paths. Tonight, a rebellion was going to start and Geralt would see it though. He had to. Jakub’s smiling face set in his minds eye, right next to Jaskier’s tear streamed cheeks. Jaskier’s voice ringing with promise, “Let’s get our boy back.”

————

Jaskier waits in their room for a moment. Gathering up his strength and a few items he may need, including a delicate dagger Geralt insisted on purchasing for him a few years back. This went into his boot along with a few other items. The bard was armed to the teeth... or well... for him he was. Just before he can leave the inn however a strong grip finds his wrist. It is the owners wife. 

“Listen,” she pulls him into a side door, and office of sorts. “Word is spreading. Your boy has been napped.” Jaskier acknowledges her statement with a nod. She nods back. “Don’t take this wrong bard but, good. We’re done with that sad sack of tits taking everything from us and this is the last time. The people are rising.”

“Look my lady. I’m happy your all so thrilled but I don’t have the time for treasonous talks in dark rooms.” His voice is cold and all of the warmth is gone. Jaskier starts for the door but the woman halts him with a hand on his shoulder. “My apology’s master bard. My eldest, Isabella, she works at the Magistrates. She’s waiting around in the ally for you. She’ll get you to your boy.” 

A smile voided of happiness and joy fills the bards face. “Take me to her.”

He is introduced to a young woman, no more than 16, dressed in standard maid approved clothing and a cloak. She hands him a similar cloak. A quick exchange between the mother and daughter. An understanding that what this young girl is about to do is extremely dangerous. Then the bard and maid are rushing down the streets and ally’s heading to the large mansion. 

They are not the only commotion. The town is busy. Moving about fast. Guards are deploying. There is a moment when a group of poorly armed towns folk a meet by a handful of trained guards. They stop a minuet, the maid watches in fear. The guards approach, hands up. On of the towns folk yell at him. “You can’t seriously support that gaseous fucker!” The guard shakes his head. Says something with anger and despair twisting his face. There is an agreement and the guards are now escorting the towns folk. They look to be organizing them into a more effective mob. 

Isabella lets her breath go and starts off again down the side ally. “I think I recognized that guard.” They take a sharp turn. “I’m positive the Magistrate harmed his sister when they were together privately.” The knot of anger tightens in his stomach. This monster is harming so many people and he can not wait to cut that monster down. 

Not much longer and they two are slipping through a servant door into the Magistrates mansion. Even with the cloak he is recognized by a few of the young faces around him. One woman gasps. “Your the boys father!”

“Where is the boy?” Jaskier’s guid asks. 

“We tried to get the boy away from him but he insisted on keeping the boy in one of the wooden crates meant for hunting dogs. He’s in the main receiving room.”

“Fuck!” The young woman curses their luck. If only the boy was just locked away. They could have made a quick escape. 

Jaskier is seething beside her. 

——

Landon and the medicine woman enter the Magistrates house through a servants side door. Many of the servants bustling around in frantic movements with a fever Landon was used to seeing. After all if any of them made one mistake the Magistrate, his shit excuse of a father, would have them beaten and released of their duties. Being removed from the house as work was more of a threat than being beaten. There was not a lot of spare work in the town. If you had work you were fine but if you didn’t you were likely to starve and freeze to death in the winter. 

The young man hated how things were in his town. He even tried to fix things. First by talking with his father and by trying to take his noble responsibilities or what little he was given as the youngest son. Than he was verbally beaten down. He tried some illegal actions like theft from those who could afford it, his fathers food storage for example, when he saw people dying for nothing he started to steel what he could. He received a beating worthy of a criminal and was locked up until said food rotted away. Now his shit father wants to bring the wrath of a Witcher upon them. 

As the two turn a corner from the servants corridors into the house he runs into a thick body covered in armor. 

Vaghn rightens the boy before he knocks back into a very expensive and creating a ruckus. 

Vaghn and Dunon has trained him since he was a boy. Then his elder brothers died in past battles they did their best to raise him away from his father, mother long gone. In fact, Vaghn was the one who had beaten him on his fathers behalf. Making sure to give the boy care and healing. The older man knew how to properly harm but not maimed and kill at the same time. It was his saving grace. If it was an inexperienced guard he could have died easily. 

The older officer pulls the boy and the woman back into the servants halls.

“My boy you should not be here. Neither should you grandmother.” He whispers. 

“As if you could stop me young man.” She crowned at the officer. 

“It is not safe right now.” He insists. 

“My father has commandeered a little boy whom I insist on seeing returned safely home.” Landon hisses. He attempts to push past the larger man but at pass fails in the small corridor. 

“You listen to me lad. I know what your father has done and it’s the last line for the men. None of us are ok with this and there is bound to be an uproar here soon. With a Witcher entangled into the mix. You should not be here.” He starts to usher them back the way they came. “Neither of you!” 

Landon puts all of his strength into his legs and plants his feet against the armored man. With a sharp look full of fight he meets the warn eyes of the Head of Guard. “I will not stand for this anymore and I will repair what my father has done.” Vaghn can not move him another inch.

With a heavy sigh he stops trying to push the young man out of the way. “Very well. Grandmother, stay in the kitchen. If we need you we’ll send for you. Come on son,” he grasps Landons shoulder, “let me inform you of the plan and we shall start executing it.”

———

Landon and Vaghn continue to the homes most prominent meeting room. He was sure that’s where his father would be as it was his favorite room that gave him the greatest feeling of power in the house. Taking a corner a bit too quickly the two run into a small band of guards loyal to the Magistrate. With a few swift moves Vaghn accommodated a spare sword for his young apprentice and together they cut down half their numbers. “Go boy. I’ll hold them off. You end this.” Vaghn says giving the boy a push in the right direction. He prepared himself and parried an attack from his left as Landon continued down the hall. Not looking back. He couldn’t risk looking back. He had to move forward. Had to finish what his shit of a father had started. 

——

Jaskeir and Isabella take the very small and stuffy servants quarters through the massive mansion. They end up just behind a hidden servants door that leads to the meeting room. She sheds her cloak and gives the bard a tight nod as she picks up a serving tray with some wine and fruits. The Magistrates favorites. With an air about her that impresses the man she opens the door without a hesitation.

“What do you want you wench?” The Magistrate hisses at her. 

“Refreshments and fruit sir?” She offers the plump man as she tries to direct his attention away from the still open side door. She’s successful for a moment but can not quite hide her reaction when she sees a wooden crate housing the trembling boy. Forgetting herself and the plan she rushes over to the crate. 

“How could you do this!” She cries out. A heavy back hand greats her face when she turns to the Magistrate, spinning her around and crashing her head to the floor. Jaskier yells out as he runs at the man, dagger in hand. 

For a man with such little current training it’s easy to forget that the Magistrate was once a skilled fighter. Even in his old age and worn body he dodges the bards attack. 

“Daddy!” Jakub whimpers as the Magistrate pulls his sword from his belt. A dagger against a sword is not a good or fair fight when one person has had training and the other has not. Just as Jaskier’s deflected the sword with his small dagger a young man flew into the room weapon raised and ready. 

“You will fight me old man!” Landon bellows at his father. Fighting stance solid and ready. The Magistrate lands a suffocating kick to Jaskier’s chest. Shoving him backwards and almost on top of the unconscious woman. His dagger clanking to the floor. The man turns in time to block his sons sword before going on the defense. Deflecting each attack as they come his way. 

A guard enters the room and closes the hard wooden door before moving an equally heavy wooden barricade in front of it on behalf of his fighting leader. He turns to the bard who is currently trying to pick the lock to the wooden cage. The little boys screech of terror was Jaskier’s only warning of the incoming doom. He was able to slip out of the way before diving for the forgotten dagger. In the flash of an eye the dagger found its home right into the guards neck drenching him in blood. Jakub screams. 

———

A few amount of guards were in fact still supporting the Magistrate and his horrible ways. Geralt, Dunon, and the group they were with sadly did have to cut down some of them. By the time they had all made their way into the mansion and entered via their respectable doors a fight had already broken out in the large home. The first thing Geralt truly noticed was not the blood that will stain the polished wooden floors or the screams of servants running but the cry, a scream of his innocent little boy. Sword safely in his grip he rushes forward with Dunon at his back. They slid down hallways till they come to a large heavy wooden door. Ornate it fills the hall with importance. The door belongs to what he assumes is an important receiving room. Dunon moves to fling it open however, it seems to be bared from the inside. 

Geralt hears the Magistrate loudly protesting and yelling. He hears the wimpier of Jaskier, smells pure fear. There is a bellow. “You useless boy! Move out of the way!” Metal clashes on the other side of the door. ‘Fuck.’ He needed to get inside. 

Vaghn comes around the other corner and collides with Dunon. “Where is Landon?” Dunon asks out of breath. “In there.” Vaghn points to the door and is answered with more clashing and scuffles. 

Geralt had enough. He backs away from the door just enough to get one large leg up and slammed a foot against the thick wood. The entire door shakes in its frame. “Yep.” Dunon says and he prepares to assist the Witcher. With all three of them and one strong kick the second time around, the door splinters inward, breaking the bared board in two. 

The door swings in to show the Magistrate and Landon at odds. Swords up and pointing at each other. Jaskier is in a corner of the room with what looks to be the body of a young woman and a wooden cage. The cage holds a tear stained and purely frightened Jakub just trying not scream out in terror. When the door knocks in the chaos in the room pauses and from behind the bard everyone can hear a fearful but hopeful “Papa!”

The Magistrate turns from his battle and moves to the bard and boy with intentions to threaten their lives but Geralt in his anger is faster. Just as the Magistrates sword is high in the air coming down in a sweeping arch. Jaskier protects the crate and Jakub’s cowering form as Geralt’s steel swings up to meet the Magistrates. So much force is put behind Geralt’s deflection that the weaker man toppled back, losing his grip on his weapon and falls to the ground. The tip of Landons sword is up to the mans throat before he can even think of moving. 

Geralt’s form towers over his family as he glares down upon the sniveling man in the floor, holding his gaze. 

Jaskier realizing they are at least temporarily out of danger continues to work the lock on the cage with what little tools he could find. It seemed like an hour but finally the lock clicks open and Jakub is safely in his arms again. He hugs the boy closely and pats his hair and back. Trying to hush the boys sobs. He wraps the boy in the borrowed cloak and lifts him up. He puts Geralt in front of them and his back to Geralt. If anything happens it would have to go through the both of them before it could even hit the boy. Shushing the boy he pulls the little head against his chest and chances a glance over his Witcher’s shoulder. If anything else happens tonight he’d be dammed if his little boy would have to witness more monster like activity. 

Landon addresses his father. “Your reign is over. Dunon, lock him up in the dungeons.” Dunon happily man handles the large man off the floor. He is hissing at and threatening the officer who in return ignores his words and the spit that hits his face. The Magistrate is removed from the room. 

As soon as the useless excuse of a man is removed from the room the younger one rushes to the body beside the crate. 

“Isabella!” He turns the girl over to show a nasty gash on her head. “Vaghn.” His eyes full of worry and fear. 

The older officer nods and rushes off down the servants hall that Jaskier and the maid originally used to sneak into the room. Towards the kitchens for the healer. 

Everything seems to start fitting into place. The rest of Dunon and Vaghn’s men use the help of the villagers to rut out and remove the few guards left who supported the Magistrate and his horrendous actions. Geralt can hear the commotion in the home settle down as Grandmother is rushed into their current room. She starts to tend for the unconscious woman. 

Finally, after a few more minuets, Geralt turns to his bard and son, leaning his sword against the crate he wraps his arms around them both. He holds them tight has he leans his head against Jaskier’s. Silent tears are running down his larks face as the little boy trembles in his daddy’s arms. 

“Hush Pumpkin, you are safe.”

——

The Master Bard and his Witcher walk out of the large home with and exhausted little boy just as the sun starts to rise. 

The people of the town are in the mist of building a nose for their disgrace of a Magistrate. Dunon and Vaghn are organizing what is left of the town guard while the grandmother healer is looking over a young maid. The Magistrates only living son, Landon, is in the midst of advisers, preparing to fill in a role that is way too big for him alone to stand in, all while The White Wolf curls around his family safely in their rented bed. Geralt waits till Jakub’s breathing evens out and for Jaskier’s soft snoring before he finally gives into the sleep pulling at his eye lids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if anyone reads these.
> 
> Don’t kill dolphins you monster.
> 
> On a more serious note, thank you for reading. I truly appreciate you taking your time to read my stories and my writer notes.
> 
> I apologize for any long gaps between chapters. This is why I tend to stick to short stories.
> 
> Please comment. I’d appreciate feed back.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Remember to be kind and love each other.


	4. First Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt, Jaskier, and Jakub have survived their tragic encounter and will see what the new day brings them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for taking way too long to write and post the last chapter. Currently I and my family are in lockdown due to the pandemic. I suffer from severe depression disorder and anxiety. The past few months have been horrible.
> 
> I want to thank you all for reading, thank you if you are considered “expendable”, I mean “needed to work for society to contribute” and I apologize that you are suffering. If you are doing well I am happy to hear.
> 
> Please remember to love each other. Stay safe and healthy out there.

On the third day in a small town Geralt, Jaskier, and Jakub exited the Magistrates house, covered in blood, tears, and if Geralt’s nose is correct, some pee on Jakub. His heart is heavy as he watches over his family, ‘His family,’ he thinks as Jaskier undress the little boy in their room. A bath being drawn and a bucket of water to wipe down with is delivered. ‘Fuck’. He knew he loved the bard and this little one had fallen into their hands but Geralt could not deny the swelling of emotions tunneling through his chest. What would Vesemir say if he knew and saw?

By now the old man knew he had some kind of connection to the world outside of Kaer Morhen and he was not pleased with Geralt. The other Witcher’s were well aware of the bards steady climb to fame as even they can not walk into a pub without being offered a free drink or hear a wayward bard singing Jaskier’s songs. He was almost certain everyone knew the nature of his relationship but when they find out about this, well, there would be hell to pay. 

For the first time in Geralt’s long life he is ready to pay the price to keep these two safe. 

Both the bard and the boy are shaking as Jaksier wipes off the dirt and tear stained face with a wet rag. Trying to keep his humming light and his voice steady. He had already striped of his blood stained clothing and the inn owner promised to have all of their threads properly cleaned and returned good as new. For now the three were all in their smalls, wiping off the worse of their grime before dipping into the tub water. Geralt’s fist clenches as he sees his Pumpkins lower lip tremble, fresh silent tears trickle down his cheeks. 

Geralt lowers himself to his knees next to his little Heart and pulls the boy into a true hug. Wrapping his arms around the boy and drowning him in tough, scared, Witcher muscle. Jaskier leans his head against Geralt’s chest and combs his fingers through the boys hair. 

The family stayed this way for a few minuets before Geralt releases the boy and pulls the little face to look up in his direction. Big, round blues connect with his yellow and his heart aches. 

“You did a great job today Pumpkin. There is evil in this world and there are times where you will need to fight against it. I’m sorry you had to go through something like this again so young.” He wants to promise the little boy safety and distance from horrors like last night however, he can’t give the boy empty promises. This was not a life for a child which is something the Witcher agrees with more than ever now. He needed to get this little boy to safety with his daddy. Guilt drowns Geralt as the little boy hugs his fathers closer and as tightly as he can. 

The boy is moved to the bath and is quickly washed down. The men take their turns too just as quickly. Free of blood and gore they retire to the bed. Jakub is cocooned by his Papa and Daddy, warped in safety. It’s hard for the boy to fall asleep at first but he did have a long day and finally after a few lullabies the boys breathing deepens. Geralt and Jaskier’s eyes meet over the boys head. Silent tears trickle down the bards face. Last night was not a good night. The Witcher pulls his bard closer till their foreheads are touching. Kissing the tears away he whispers, just loud enough for Jaskier to hear, “He’s safe, your safe.” They share a chaste kiss before settling in for a long well needed rest. 

Geralt is the last one awake. He listens to his lovers deep breathing. The thump of Jakub’s little heart against his wide chest is deafening. His own thoughts are that of a storm. Thunder around in his brain. Guilt, regret, and worry chew away his inner resolve. Mentally he counts his coin purse and maps out the best course of action. Internally he comes to a decision and not only until then, hours after the rest of his little family has passed out due to exhaustion, does he finally allow himself to rest. 

They spend the day to rest, dry some fresh tears, and recuperate while gallos are built and effectively used. By the evening Landon is in charge of his fathers estate and title while two sets of boots dangle from a noose. 

———

The next day is, in its own way, harder. They now have a rambunctious, over slept, anxious, and still slightly upset little boy in their hands. 

Jakub runs around the bar as Gerlat and Jaskier are deciding which direction to head next. The Witcher is all business, taking on his ‘get work done’ tone and face making Jaskier’s heart ache. He knows his White Wolf and he understands the hidden worry his dear heart can not express. 

Jakub trips over his own feet and slide sprawling across the sticky floor. Unhurt, with large tears, he starts to wail loudly. Jasiker moves to get up from the table but Geralt stops him with a hand to his arm. The large man walks over to the boy and squats down to his level. He meets the little eyes and waits for the boy to quiet down. He has his ‘not dealing with your shit face on’. It’s a face that has made grown men stir in discomfort and fear. It’s a face that only makes Jakub calm down and snuffle his tears away. 

“Are you done running around now?” Geralt’s voice is low, calm, and holds no real bite. Jakub nods his head ‘yes’ and Geralt nods his in agreement. “Good. Now get up off that floor, dry your tears, and work on your letters.” Geralt does not offer the boy a helping hand, he does not dry the boys tears. He stands back up and walks over to their table. Brings out Jakub’s tutoring board and sets it at his seat. He turns to the boy and gives him the look again. With a large pout lip Jakub does as he’s told. Only after he’s set down at the table and munching on his breakfast, drawing B’s, does Geralt drop a large hand on his head with a pat and a mumbled “Good boy.”

Regardless if Geralt liked it or not, before they could head to the coast they had to make enough coin first. The couple would have to head north towards Kaedwen, closer to Kaer Morhen. Oh how he wanted to keep his Pumpkin safe and secret. How he wanted to keep the cold halls of the half abandoned keep away from his little boy. Sure, in his way he loved the keep and his brothers, he missed them however, the last thing he wanted was to bring yet another little boy to Kaer Morhen’s halls of death. 

Then it dawned on him. As he and Jaskier were talking about how close they would be to winter, that close to the keep they both had the same realization. Jakub was not four anymore. As a matter of fact the boy had most likely passed is birthday a few days ago. He was now five of age! 

Jaskier pulled out his notebook, ink well, and quill. As their little boy practiced his runes his Daddy and Papa were scribbling down their own letters to pass between each other for what they had to say could not be said in the presence of the little boy. 

———

After some arguing, a few tears, and the realization that Jakub was just too afraid to be separated from them, Geralt and Jaskier formed a plan. Geralt would take the boy to retrieve his gold from the Grandmother healer. Hopefully she’ll distract him long enough for Jaskeir to get some secret shopping done. 

In fact that is what Jaskier is currently doing when a messenger comes running up to him with a summons to attend and play at the celebration being thrown tonight in the town square. The town is overjoyed with being freed of the very evil man controlling them and Landon, the new Magistrate, has offered a good if not too much sum for the bard to play his music at the gathering. Any one could be read in between the lines of the summons and see the guilt all over the letter. Quickly he gave the messenger his reply, of course he’d be happy to play. Maybe, just maybe Geralt would not need to go north after all, they would continue heading west instead. 

As they meet up for lunch he sweeps his little boy Into his arms to hear how Grandmother spoiled the boy for the past hour. Geralt’s own purse heavier than it should be. The town folk were more than thrilled for the service he had done them. 

It took some convincing and a few trembling in the little boys lower lip before he agrees to stay with the inn owners children for the night. Grandmother had already agreed to look after them as the party was bound to be large and not a place for children. Gerlat also had to swear that he would, with out a doubt, be checking in on him every hour and a half, to assure the boy they would not abandon him. 

Jaskier’s heat ache as Gerlat basically pulls him from the Inn. 

“He needs to be able to be separated from us once in a while or he’ll catch fear.” Geralt reasons, “He is safe, the danger has passed, and if he never learns to have distance he will never be able to grow into a man.” The Witcher’s reasoning is sound but it takes all of Jaskiers strength to not burst from the pain in his heart. 

“But we’re abandoning him!” The bards grip tightens onto Geralt’s corded bicep. He pats the younger mans hand. “The boy will be fine and I’ll be checking on him soon.”

They make their way to the town square where the celebration is already in full bloom. The aroma of meet cooking over an open spit mixed in gracefully with the chatter of cheer and the poring of ale. The couple is greeted with far more enthusiasm and energy than the Witcher is accustomed to. It makes his head spin as people gather around them thanking them for their new found freedom. It takes all of his will to not turn heel and run. Also the bards grasp on his arm is soothing. Soon Jaskier’s fingers are intertwined with his and he is grounded to the bard. 

As the people start to disperse and give them blessed breathing room Geralt catches his bards blue eyes. He’s gifted a shining smile full of trust and more love than he deserves. “Come on Geralt. Let’s enjoy the night.” Jaskier is clearly over his worries for now as he squeezes the Witcher’s hand and pulls him to some food and ale. 

After a good hour of eating and drinking Geralt excuses himself to keep good on his promise to his little Pumpkin. Heading over to the inn keepers home just attached to the inn itself. With a quick knock on the door he lets himself in to find his little boy bing pinned to the floor by one of the older kids. It stoped Gerlat’s heart for a moment before he heard the giggling and laughter ringing in the air. The room of kids pause for a moment feeling the change in the air with both the house door open and the large figure in the entrance. 

“Papa!” Jakub squeals as he slips out of the lose hold the other child had him in to run to his father. 

Geralt catches the boy and hold him close. “Are you having fun?” He asks as he pats the boys hair. The boys head bobs up and down with energy and spirit. He pats Geralt’s cheeks with his tinny hands. “I’ll be all right Papa. You can go and play with Daddy. I’ll be fine!” His little face brightens up into a smile. A small version of Jaskier’s gleaming one. The boy was the spitting imagery his father. The reason his grandfather was so abusive to him. A reminder as to why his daughter was stolen from him. 

Geralt kisses the boys forehead before releasing him to the mercy of the other children. “Be good. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Jakub looks a little shy as he fiddles with his clothing. “It’s fine Papa. If you want to come back a little later. I’m a big boy I’ll be all right.” Geralt lets his hand rest on the boys head. Proud that the little one is feeling brave. 

“Very well. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He is gifted with a quick hug to his right leg and the boy is off tackling the older child, ready to ‘fight back’. 

Geralt’s pleased that the boy is doing better. He’s coming out of this experience stronger, more durable. The boy is a fighter and this warms his heart. 

As Geralt returns to the gathering he sees Jaskier off in the distance, gesturing and animated as he tells those around him a story. Of what the Witcher is not sure but the way how the torch light and the music floats around the space it makes his love look more magical than any creature he’s ever seen. He finds a wall and leans against it just to watch the other man for a while from a distance. He’s not a religious person but if he had a religion it would be the Witcher’s Path and this man across the town square. It has been a while since he had been able to enjoy a peaceful moment like this. Taking in every movement the younger man makes as he entertains the people around him. Geralt would die for this man. He would kill for his Buttercup. He would tare down entire towns for his bard and part of him was unsettled by that but also not bothered by it either. 

Finally, the story over, Jaskier’s looks past the people and around for his Witcher to see golden eyes watching him from across the square. He shivers but not from the cold as his heart skips a beat. Warmth blooms from his chest as it usually does under that watchful look. The bard excuses himself to go to the larger man. Picking up to fresh ales before he approaches saying, “I like how you just sit in the corner and brood.” He can’t help the smile from spreading wider on his face as he hands a flagon to his whit haired lover. With a snort Geralt accepts the alcohol and gives him a look over. “No bread in your pants today?” He responds with a huff and a subtle laugh, returning the bards smile with his own half grin. This makes Jaskeir brighten up more. Oh how he loves that half smile. “Naw.” He waves his hand before getting very close to the Witcher. Inches away from touching. “That’s just me happy to see you.” He says with a wink. Earning an eye roll from the cat like golden eyes. 

Geralt takes a swig of his ale before dropping down for a quick kiss with the bard. Holding his chin and giving the younger mans head a little shake. “Almost time for you to play.” He nods his head toward the makeshift stage in the center of the locals. Jaskier steels a quick peck from him. “It is time actually. I just wanted to see how our boy was doing.”

Geralt rubs Jaskier’s back as he answers. “He is enjoying himself. Found him in the fight of his life but I think he got the upper hand when I was leaving. A tickling match.” He says as his bard was about to get more worried but quickly relaxed again at the sound of a tickle battle. “He even told me i didn’t have to return right away on the hour.” A half smile is coming back to the mutants lips. “I’m proud of him.” He says softly. Jaskier nods his head in agreement. “Me too. The poor boys been through enough.” He responds with a sad smile. Geralt caresses his face, trying to use his fingers to brush the sadness out of his darlings features. 

One more kiss, this one deeper and a bit longer, before Jaskeir finishes his drink and pulls his lute around his back to hold it lightly in front of him. It’s time for him to take the stage and he does with a grace Gerlat will never be tired of seeing. It doesn’t take long for the bard to entice the already rowdy crowd to dance and sing along to the songs they know. 

From Geralt’s wall he sees the town in its beauty. For the first time in decades he does not feel like an unwanted outsider. He’s not dancing along but there are no glares, sneers, or stares. At some point some familiar people approach him. Dunon brings his wife to great him. She is kind and is about to burst with a fresh child any day now. He is actually invited to a table with them and they have real conversation as if he belongs there. The Guard has some lofty hopes and dreams for this town. His mentor Vaghn is rolling his eyes occasionally and calls his plans fantasies but does what he can to encourage the younger man. It’s a good dynamic and familiar to the Witcher. Some of Dunon’s men approach and thank or apologize to the Witcher. 

“He sings so well!” Dunon’s wife comments as she watches the people dance to Jaskier’s songs. Landon, the new Magistrate by name, is dancing with a young girl, the Inn keepers eldest daughter. They are truly enjoying their dance and this makes everyone smile with warmth, a hope for a wedding to come is on many lips. 

Geralt nods and takes a deep drink from his tanker. “Don’t tell him you said that. He already has the largest ego I’ve ever seen.” He huffs making those at his table smile for there is no bit to his words and all can see his pride and love for the bard dancing up on stage. 

Once the show was done Jaskier bounds to their table, glistening with sweet, and glowing with the crowds admiration. He receives a second round of applause from the group as he plops down next to Geralt. His cheeks flushed he swipes the rest of the Witcher’s drink. “Have you checked on Jakub?” 

“Not yet.” Geralt responds. 

“I’m sure the boy will be fine.” Vaghn says as he raises his hand to order more meed. 

“The poor boy.” Dunon’s wife sighs. “We are truly apologetic for the hell you and your family have been through.” She gives Jaskier’s hand a kind squeeze. “We understand if you feel the need to abandon us to look in on him.” Jaskier returns her concern with a warm smile. He removes his hand and pats Gerlat in the shoulder. “Let’s go and give a good look. Make sure he’s sleeping fine.” Given the time of night the boy was most likely tucked away into bed. 

They walked away from the square with Geralt’s arm wrapped lightly around Jaskier’s waist in a slow meander taking their time. By now Jasier was bordering on drunk and Geralt was nursing a healthy buzz. Never before have they had the chance to feel so comfortable in a village. Geralt was considering the location of this village for a more permanent settling. He would be an idiot to not mull the idea over in his head. They still needed some more funds however. 

Finally, at the Inn, the two of them looked down at their child nested in between the inn keepers younger children, sleeping soundly. They would leave the boy there for the night as they themselves enjoyed each other in a way they have not been able to in the past few months since they gained their new young charge. 

————

Geralt wakes to the sun breaking through the thin curtains of their room. Managing to fix his yellow eyes into thin slits he turns to watch his soul and love sleep next to him. Their limbs are tangled and wrapped up in the sheets, the smell of last night still strong in the room. He takes a moment to really take a deep breath. Tasting the air and basking in the mix of sweet, sex, and ale. He took in the smell of the peaceful man sleeping next to him, engulfed in the Witcher’s musk and his own scent of stale sex. This felt good, it felt right, safe, like home. With a sigh he takes a second look out the window to try and judge the time of day. 

“Fuck.” It’s already too late in the morning. Maybe nineish? The boy should be up soon if he’s not already. Geralt rubs his fingers through the chestnut mop of hair next to him. Some how, even tossed with sleep, the bards hair seems to fall perfectly. Jaskier moves just the slightest against his hand but does not wake. “Jask.” Geralt tries to whisper softly. However for him it is still a bit rough especially in the morning. “Jask, love.” He tries a little bit louder and receives some sleepy mumbling in response. The bard tries to roll away from the annoyance but doesn’t go far as he is still very asleep and also quite tangled. 

At this point in their relationship Geralt has stoped trying to force himself to keep back his amusement at Jaskier’s adorable side in his personality. With a huff of laughter and a half smile he starts to annoy the bard more. With kisses to the temple, cheeks, and neck he starts to nuzzle at the bard and licks away the sweet that has formed on the bards skin. Trying to push him into wakefulness. 

Finally, after a few minuets a groggy eye slips open glares at him. Geralt raises and eyebrow back. Jaskier huffs and burrows his face father into the pillow. 

“Jaskier.” Geralt says with no softness and in a very normal volume. “It’s time to get up.” His smile is growing wider as the bard in question just groans and tries to pull what sheets he can over his form. Attempting to block the larger man out. Geralt detangles himself from the bard and the bed. Earning more annoyed grunts from the reluctant man. He grabs Jaskier around the waist. His hand span easily getting a good hold around taught muscle of the bards sides. He leans down so he’s close to Jaskier’s head and threatens, “If you don’t get up now of your own will I’ll drag you out of bed.” 

Jaskier lifts his head just enough to speak. “If you do that I am likely to huck all over this bed and you.” 

Geralt starts to rub his hands against the bards side and back. “Drank a little too much last night?” He asked in amusement. A groan answers him back. “That and some very strenuous activity.” Jaskier lets a small laugh slip past his lips at that. “Something like that.” He finally responds. 

“Don’t forget what we have planned for today Jask.” Geralt’s reminder causes the bard to snap up quickly, almost catching the head that is floating just above him. Thanks to quick Witcher reflects, Geralt is not smacked in the face by a thick skull but Jaskier does not tumble out of the bed and into the floor. Instead, the bard lands softly onto Gerlat’s lap. The Witcher however lands hard on his own ass making quite the racket. They end up in a heap of tangled bodies and sheets on the floor, their hearts light, their laughter louder than expected, and Jaskier a little bit sick to his stomach. 

Finally, after a few more kisses the two men detangled themselves from each other, did a quick cleanup, and dressed for the day. 

They could already hear the commotion as they exited their room and walked down stairs. 

“You’ll just have to wait a little bit longer sweetie.” The kind voice of the innkeepers wife greats them as they turn the corner. She’s keeping the inn’a front desk with a little Jakub bouncing on her knee. She’s teaching him his numbers using his chalk board. It’s an adorable image as he pulls her attention back to him. “Is this how I draw the one?” She ruffles his hair as she praises him on his learning abilities. 

“Morning darling.” Jaskier greats the child with his dazzling smile. 

“Daddy!” The boy catapults off the woman’s leg and dashed into his daddy’s arms. 

“Did you have a fun time?” A large smile and a ‘yep’ is his answer as the boy burrows deeper into his chest. 

Geralt approaches the woman and tries to discreetly pass some coin to her in payment for the favor of watching their boy. She waves him off even as he tries a little harder but she won’t have his coin. “It was a pleasure to watch such a sweet boy.” She says. Insisting he keeps his payment. “After all you’ve been through.”  
She says quietly, almost with guilt. 

With one last thank you the couple sweep up their child and head for the actual bar for breakfast. Jaskier was thriving with excitement that he could barely keep reigned in. The breakfast was a tad bit nicer than they normally would purchase with salted meats, cheese, and fruits. Jakub bounced on Geralt’s lap as the large man fed the boy gently with care that only a doting and loving parent could have. Both men and child were oblivious to the swooning of the people around them. Men and women alike were making romantic plans and couples would consider a second, third, or even fifth child as the sight of the adorable family in the corner eating their breakfast. No doubt, once the Witcher and his Bard and child left this town new families would crop up and an up swing in baby’s would put Grandmother healer to work. 

——

After the late breakfast the lovers took their little boy to the town square where a puppeteer was busy setting up his stage. Jaskier plopped Jakub on his lap and gave him one of Grandmothers sweets that she loaned to the bard. Jakub was all smiles and laughter. His happiness was enough to brighten any dreary day. 

“Are you having fun sweetling?” Jaskier receives an enthusiastic head bob ‘yes’ as the boy chews away on maple toffee. Jaskier continues, “So your papa and I realized something a day ago. We realized that we passed your birthday.” The boy pauses and gave Jaskier a puzzling look. He swallows his treat before looking between both men. 

“When I had my last birthday, Yulla,” the boy stammers, “she made me a small cake.” The boy quiets. His expression does not match the words he has spoken. Receiving a gift from the kind woman Yulla should give the boy a happy memory not the deep frown that is marking Jakub’s precious little face. Jaskeir brushes a soothing hand through the boys hair and pats his back. “Was the cake not that tasty?” The boy shook his head. “It was the best thing I ever ate. Very good!” A smile cracked through the boys sadness. “Grandpa found out...” and he trailed off. 

Geralt and Jaskeir share a look they are both very familiar with. That horrible crusty old man was so bad to the boy. Geralt wished he could chop the worms head off again but took some happiness in the fact the man was dead and the boy was mostly safe with them. Well considering current events at least the boy was loved by them. 

“Well,” Jaskiers continues as he rubs the boys back, “today we would like to celebrate your birthday and your horrible grandpa can not do a thing about it.” 

“Because he’s not here anymore?” Jakub looks like he needs some convincing as he asks his question. 

“Because your daddy and I are here and we would like to celebrate it with you Pumpkin.” Geralt leans down an plants a kiss on the top of the boys head. 

“That is correct!” Jaskier’s hugs the boy close and gives him a little shake of excitement. “No more sad memories,” he brushes the side of Jakub’s face as if he’s whipping away the sad look in his eyes, “today we celebrate our little boy!” Jakub and Jaskier’s smiles are beaming by the time the bard is done lifting his child’s spirits. 

Geralt takes a wrapped parcel out of its hiding place and hands it to the boy. “A present for your fifth year.” He ruffles the boys hair as the boy gingerly takes the gift from his Papa. He looks to his Daddy for support and receives a confirmation nod. A gift! With pink cheeks and hesitation Jakub tares away the simple paper to reveal a well made wood horse. Carved with care by a local toy maker. When Jaskier saw the horse on the merchants shelf he knew it was the right gift. “Roach!!!” Jakub exclaims as he holds the horse to his chest. It indeed was painted brown with a white mark, just like the real Roach. Geralt gives the boy his half smile. “Your own Roach.” The boy is beyond excited for such a simple but well made gift. 

A small tingle of a bell rings from the puppeteers stage. A puppet plops down onto the stage and lifts its tiny hand up into the air. “Attention, attention!” A high pitch voice directs everyone’s attention. “Is there a little boy who’s birthday it is today?” The female marionette questions the crowd. Jaskier pokes Jakub in the side. “I think that’s you little flower.” Jakub’s eyes brighten up. He points to himself. “Me?” The bard nods at the boy and escorts him to the little stage. 

With an encouraging push Jakub gets closer. In a small meek voice he raises his hand, “I’m a birthday boy.” The female puppet gasps. “What?” The puppet exclaims making the little boy giggle. “Good! I’ve been looking for a birthday boy! How many years of age are you little boy?”

“Five!” Jakub holds his hand up so all five fingers were stretched tall. The boy has been good with his studies and can count to ten. 

“Oh!” The high pitch voice rings out. “Five years old! What a big boy. Would you like to hear a story of monsters and battles? Of hero’s and little boys?” Jakub nods his head ferociously and for the next hour he and the rest of the square is entertained by the exploits of a white haired monster fighter, a very exciting and silly bard, and a little boy who ends up saving the day. 

—— 

That night the inn keepers family shared a good size cake with the travelers for the little boys birthday. It was their last night in this village and Geralt had no doubt the story of a Witcher and his family would travel far across the continent. It makes his gut clench and he is not sure what fait will bring them. He does know that he will do what he can to protect his Buttercup and Pumpkin. 

The next day they would start north to a larger contract to help stuff their purses with more coin. They will travel a bit closer to Kaer Morhen than he is comfortable with, a little too close to winter than he would prefer. With luck he’ll be done with the job and they will be heading to the coast. 

They set out early in the morning, pockets full of treats and sweets for their little boy, gifts from the towns folk. Off they are traveling again to what future is waiting for the small family. The little boy runs between his Daddy and Papa with a wooden horse in his hands. A bright smile that could challenge the rising sun and joy that would make even the most crumbled hearts beat again.


End file.
